


jane

by oh-boleyn (scrxamitout)



Series: infamy [2]
Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Character Study, Gen, INFO ABOUT ALL MY FANFICS UPDATES IN NOTES, tw: the same as any other infamy one shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-30
Updated: 2020-04-30
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23929231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scrxamitout/pseuds/oh-boleyn
Summary: How Jane is seen from history, and what happens when she comes back.
Series: infamy [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625791
Comments: 5
Kudos: 46





	jane

**Author's Note:**

> tw: basically all canon + maybe some death idealization? or blaming herself for dying? I don't think there are much honestly, but tell me if I should add something
> 
> the commentary between scenes are things I got from internet about Jane Seymour.
> 
> ABOUT MY FANFICS UPDATES
> 
> I'm sad to announce that I will probably stop posting fanfics for a while, I started university and it's taking most of my time. Still, all my fanfics will be finished, just I will probably post just once a month (and I'm really sorry, but I have no time). I also have priority writing and things I'll write later, right now "te para tres" and "when destiny calls you" are the priority. Anna and Aragon one shots will be posted... some day, I'm not sure when since infamy one shots take a lot of time (this one literally took around two months, I started it the same week I posted Anne's). As always, you can all contact me on lessix if you want to know something or just talk or just request for me to update something sooner.
> 
> As always, Lexi beta'ed this, and she is great and actually a really good support and this (or most of my fanfics) wouldn't be here without her.

_ Remembered for: being the only wife to provide Henry with a son and male heir. _

(…)

Jane Seymour was relieved.

The light is brighter, and her dizziness is starting to fade.

No more pain or ache in her lower body, and she feels quite better than in a long time. Her arms are longing to hold her baby, dear Edward, who has just secured her the position of queen.

She opens her eyes, but instead of finding her chambers, she is in a strange looking room, with Anne Boleyn and Catherine of Aragon. Jane wants to cry, knowing immediately what it meant. She is dead, there is no other way to turn it around. She died and was found guilty of her sins, was it her hell? Being with the other two queens? God punishment for seducing a married man?

They all stare at each other, not knowing how to proceed.

(…)

_ Virtue and common good sense. _

(…)

The new house is nothing like what she was used to, and sharing a room with both Catherines wasn’t exactly in her dreams.

She had less problems with accepting Catherine rather than Anne, after all, with the last the relationship had been more than rocky, but Catherine probably wasn’t Jane’s biggest fan either. Even after the older queen’s death, Jane had always tried her best with Mary, attempting to help her image, trying to reconcile with the religion.

Parr wasn’t bad, but she was quite closed. They weren’t acquaintances in their past lives, but that didn’t mean Catherine would introduce herself and invite her to grab a snack or something. It was hard to think about her, how connected both were but how apart too. The most she would talk was about history, or science, or another thing Jane couldn’t bring herself to truly understand and would be left just nodding along.

(…)

_ When she died, he actually sunk into depression, officially mourning her for two years before marrying again.  _

(…)

Looking for a job is not an easy task, it’s not like she ever had to do that before. Her kinsman secured her a good place as the lady of the queen, and even when the court became hostile and fell apart, she managed to still have her place.

But now jobs required so much, not just her needlework and knowing how to perform  _ the arts _ —whatever arts you want that to mean. Modern positions searched for way too many qualities she doesn’t have.

When Catherine offers the idea of doing a show, she says yes out of desperation of not knowing how to do anything else, not even how get the oven to work. Once it goes out of her mouth, she truly wishes the rest of the queens don’t notice how needy she is of the opportunity.

(…)

_ By that account, she was practically a saint! _

(…)

Opening night was stressful to say the least. There are at least a hundred pairs of eyes on her, and her song – her song! While everyone clapped along Aragon’s and Boleyn’s, her part was different, way out of the upbeat modern pop style.

She couldn’t even have a fun, upbeat song.

It’s not like she didn’t want to, Jane tried so hard to add comic relief to her story, trying puns and obnoxious screaming. But her song was slow, more of a ballad instead of the pop-rock songs the show featured. And, to top it, she was the only one who talked about understanding Henry, about loving him, staying by his side.

Of  _ fucking _ course, she had to be the sweet woman who just happened to love a horrible man.

(…)

_ Jane was Henry’s true love. _

(…)

It is hard to fill her place, her own shoes she left behind when she died.

Jane Seymour, known because she was the one he  _ truly _ loved. The one he asked to be painted years after she died, instead of just letting her rest in peace. Jane, the dutiful wife, the one who had the son he so desperately wanted.

And the audience loved it, they loved to see the dutiful mother, the one who can’t stop talking about her son. They cheered, they heard everything they always knew.

Because she wasn’t an interesting character in the story, she was just another woman there to obey the orders of the king.

She wishes she was known for something else, but that’s not her life. Of course, playing another character would be fun, being the temptress, the evil stepmother, the fun one, someone people actually cared about. Instead, she was the tedious, boring perfect wife. Reduced to her uterus capacity, and ability to shut her mouth.

(…)

_ I assure you she is as gentle a lady as ever I knew, and as fair a Queen as any in Christendom. _

(…)

“Good morning, Katherine.” Jane says.

The teenager enters the kitchen with heavy steps, still not quite awake from the night of sleep.

“Morning.” She replies, voice small.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“Do you know how to cook?” Katherine retorts, a smug look on her face. “Don’t worry, I will buy something. Maybe cheesecake? Or apple pie?”

“Why not a chocolate cake.” Jane offers, getting the water off of the stove, almost burning herself in the process.

“Do you like chocolate cake?” The younger asks, “I would have pinned you as a vanilla kind of person.”

Jane feels judged. The smile on Katherine’s face just says it all.

“I prefer it, but never mind.” The teenager finishes.

(…)

_ Here lies Jane, a phoenix / Who died in giving another phoenix birth.  _

(…)

They move into a new house.

The moment Jane enters her new room, she knows it will take at least two months to get it completely clean. There are spiderwebs, and the white walls look more of a light grey. She makes mental notes to buy bleach, and other cleaning supplies.

At least her bed is clean, but she makes sure it doesn’t touch any wall for the sake of it not getting dirty.

(…)

_ Jane Seymour was a kind woman too, a better person than Anne. _

(…)

“Are we coming to the bar tonight?” Anna asks.

Cleves is nothing less than an interesting character to say the least. They never got to meet in their past lives, but the woman knew her son. She even lived long enough to see him dead.

“I’m not sure,” Jane replies, “I don’t think that Boleyn is going to want me there.”

“But I would want you there.” The fourth queen says easily. “If it’s your decision, that’s alright, but I would like you to come.”

“I will keep that in mind.”

(…)

_ Her ladies-in-waiting and her maids were held to a strict code of behavior and insisted that they “serve God and be virtuous”. _

(…)

The people, and society as a whole has changed.

Feminism is a common term, and women can –almost, to a certain point– hold the same power as men do.

Still, Jane feels more judged than ever. In her past life it was easy, if she did exactly what she was told, nobody would question her. She was bound to serve and obey, and planned to let everyone know about it. Unlike Anne, she was not going to take her chances. She couldn’t say that it brings her happiness, but it gave her peace of mind.

Nobody would contradict the orders of their king.

Nowadays it is different. People talk about freedom, about being able to own yourself, your body, your choices. Nonetheless, they talk about her. Judged her for saying good things about Henry in her speech, for loving him when it was her only choice.

It was her choice to keep her hair long, not like Anna’s. Her choice to wear make-up, to prefer dresses rather than pants. To talk about her son, to own her past. The public sometimes hated her for it, for her decisions, calling them a part of patriarchy leftover from the century in which she used to live. 

They hate that she reduces herself to it, to being a mother, to fill what was expected of her, but that is still the only thing they know about her.

(…)

_ Jane herself was known for her quiet and soothing manner. _

(…)

She sometimes sees it; the way Aragon and Boleyn are mothers.

Sometimes it is just a word, a name. Something totally irrelevant that snaps them into it, into caring in a way only mothers do. The way they treat Katherine, or how they look at a little kid on the street. How they talk to the younger fans of the show.

Jane feels like she doesn’t have it. She doesn’t care about babies and kids. Doesn’t have an attachment to them, to the idea of being a mother. If someone handed her a baby she would probably freeze and don’t know how to proceed.

Was it justice? Did she die so Edward wouldn’t have to put through with her as a mother?

Jane thinks she was just not born for that, to have a kid, to care for them. There were women who had maternal instincts, but she didn’t. Instead, when having to tend for Katherine, she grew overwhelmed, not having a clue of what to do next.

(…)

_ We will never know if Jane sought the king’s favor or was a frightened pawn of her family and the king’s desire. _

(…)

“Would you like to go to brunch tomorrow?” Aragon asks one day.

It’s Saturday night, which means she is totally exhausted after a two show day, but still, she nods. Slowly, Aragon and Jane had started to rebuild the good relationship they once had. Both of them holding so much respect for the other.

“Have you seen Kat?” Parr interrupts Jane’s thoughts.

“She was here just a minute ago.” Aragon says, looking around.

“Well, Anne is looking for her and there’s no trace of where she could be.” The survivor explains quickly.

“Let’s look for her.” The first queen concludes, taking action.

They pass fans, excusing themselves, still taking a few pictures just for the sake of fulfilling the stagedoor the queens always did. Once they are out, a cold breeze hits their faces. Walking through the streets seems dangerous, but luckily enough Kat is near, curled up in herself. They signal to Anne and Anna to quickly come with them.

“Kitty, can you hear me?” Anne is fast to get on her knees, getting to be at the same height as Katherine.

“We should take her inside,” Jane states, “it’s not safe here.”

“Outside air can help, Jane.” Boleyn snaps at her. “Kat?”

She wishes she could be mad at her, but at the same time the second queen is just trying to do the best for her cousin. She acts almost instinctive, as if anyone would do that. The way she stays near her, but without invading personal space amazes Jane, even if that decision makes sense. She would’ve tried to pull the younger girl closer, thinking about it makes it seem like not such a good idea, the immediate response to fight or flight after a panic attack wouldn’t help.

“I’m okay.” Her voice is small. “Can we go home?”

Jane nods, and starts walking behind her towards the car. It comes as a surprise the fact that Katherine rides with them, instead of Anne and Anna as she usually does, but they don’t say a thing. She maintains her eyes on the girl, worried about her.

Once they arrive, Katherine is the first to get into the house, leaving the other two queens alone.

“I’m worried about her, should we try to have a talk?” Jane asks, Catherine denies with her head.

“No, we have to just make her trust us,” she says easily, “once she does, if needed she will come to us. Confrontation is mostly not the way to go with teenagers.”

“How do you know that?”

Aragon smiles.

(…)

_ She was the only one of his wives to be buried next to him. _

(…)

If Jane said that she never wanted to be queen, it would be a lie.

The idea always sounded appealing. Who wouldn’t want to be one? Even in a modern context, girls still pretended to be queens, to live in the prettiest castles. Being queen came with power, not nearly as much as men had, but still a fair amount. The chance to change things, to have opinions. Not counting how good it could be to the family, to secure a future.

Jane would be lying if she ever said that becoming a queen was not something she longed for. But she didn’t want Anne to suffer such a horrible death, no matter if it was or wasn’t fair.

(She used to think that another kind of death wouldn’t be as bad, to die for natural causes would just be God’s will, and to have a divorce would be the Man’s will.

Now she thinks every ending is horrible until proven different.)

In this life she kept quiet about it, knowing how she might have interfered in what Henry ultimately did to Anne. She preferred to not talk about her time as queen, how he threatened her with the same fate her predecessor suffered.

She once thinks about boarding the subject with Parr. She saw that the writer went through the same, a warrant order for her head that was never finished, and the painful death after a childbirth. Still, she doesn’t do so, knowing that her and the survivor are not the same.

Catherine Parr was smart, got her way because of her words. Jane Seymour was just the ignorant fool who kept quiet to please the man.

(…)

_ The ladies in waiting were expected to wear a belt of pearls with at least 120 pearls in them, and if they didn’t, they weren’t allowed to appear before her. _

(…)

“Did you bring something for the cold?” Jane interrogates.

“Yeah, my pink sweater, I left it in the dressing room.” Katherine explains.

“Okay, I will look for it, finish taking your makeup off.” She orders.

The third queen stops staring at the queen, instead looking around. Finding the piece of clothing, she reaches out for it, but winces for a moment when the younger talks.

“Jane, just stop it, okay?” Katherine asks.

“It’s cold, put on a coat or something more, you will catch a cold.” She tried to give the teenager her pink sweater, but all she got was rejection.

“Just don’t. Stop acting as if I’m a child.”

It doesn’t come as a surprise, after all, Katherine usually snapped at her.

“You are nineteen.” Jane indicated, anger bubbling up in her voice.

“I am like almost five hundred years old.” There was bitterness in the statement. “Nobody cared about me being eighteen when the king beheaded me. They didn’t even care when I was younger, why now?”

“Because I care about you.” The words come out before she can really think about it.

Did she really? Cared for the younger?

Of course, she didn’t want harm to come to her, but then again also not to any of all the strangers she knew in this life. Nonetheless there is something about Katherine, an innocence, a broken past. Jane wanted to take care of the girl, to help her through whatever she was going through.

“You shouldn’t.”

It comes out almost aggressive, like a threat. The queen who died of natural causes doesn’t know how to feel about it.

(…)

_ She learned pretty quickly that it was best to stay out of religion and politics, and instead focused her energy on domestic issues. _

(…)

Jane doesn’t break like Katherine, but she still does.

The way Katherine breaks suddenly, they can all point at that moment and say that is when she started changing. Harming herself in not obvious ways, drinking more caffeine than what she should, sleeping less, eating the unhealthiest food she can find. They notice, but their own egos and need to not gossip in order to not be the  _ catty bitches fighting against each other  _ like history has painted stop them from acting as a group.

Instead, the way Jane breaks is slowly, anger destroying her. Consuming every inch of her, growing and taking parts of her life.

It starts as a bitter, indignant feeling when she is left to cook or help cleaning up, but it quickly grows. Gets infuriating, maddening when people call her  _ good _ . She is not, she might have been in another life, but not in this one. She was not innocent, but rather had a fair amount of guilt. It evolves to be hostile when she realizes that nothing will change it.

Jane Seymour, the mother figure who not only failed at being educated and staying alive, but also failed at having maternal instincts. The good queen, who did nothing but harm. The mother of the king, a king who died young and so did she.

She hates herself for it.

(…)

_ Her ladies-in-waiting and her maids were held to a strict code of behavior and insisted that they “serve God and be virtuous”. _

(…)

She tries to self-isolate, to take a step away.

It doesn’t help, instead the anger comes back stronger each time, and she hates it. Jane hates how violent the feeling can be, how abrasive. She controls herself as she had always done, but it doesn’t make it any better, a resentment towards her fellow queens growing.

Seymour was not a jealous woman, not in her past life and not in this one. She didn’t want to be like the other queens knowing that there were so many things wrong in their lives. It was not about it.

It was about making a mistake, and how she never got to commit those. Jane couldn’t regret anything in her life without someone telling her that “she had it easy”, after all, she was the one he “truly loved”. Even when her problems were addressed, it always came before a way to minimize it, or worse, blame her for them.

The queens knew that it was none of their faults, but people still pinned them against each other, choosing favourites, giving each other a role. And she couldn’t say a word, because hers was good.

It didn’t matter what she truly wanted, or what her opinions about it were, because their mind was made up.

Why change something that is not broken? Why get mad over a good thing? What was better, being a  _ bitch _ or a  _ saint _ ?

Jane thinks that being the villain of the story would be easier, liberating. Heroes are just too unreal to exist, but pushing the narrative meant forgetting her own flaws, thoughts, problems.

But who cared?

All they ever wanted was a devoted woman.

(…)

_ Jane curbed her tongue and accepted her place as the dutiful wife. _

(…)

"Can you stop being such a stuck-up child and act mature for a  _ fucking _ moment?" The third queen asks, becoming irritable, "I just fucking asked  _ you _ to do  _ one _ thing. One  _ fucking _ thing. You are not a toddler, stop throwing a fit!"

It turns out, living up to five hundred years of expectations become harder the angrier you get. The worse the feeling of burning grows, the worse it hurts inside. Jane refuses to let it slide, to let it show, but Anne is not making it any easier.

"Go off, Janey," the green queen laughs, "or chill out, it's not that deep."

"Except, it is." She demands. "I asked you to please do one thing, and it's not the first time. I ask you, you do it for a week, and then forget about it. Are you taking me for an idiot?"

"Honestly? No," she replies easily, "I just don't care enough."

They stay watching each other for a moment.

It brings back memories, but their roles are reversed. In another timeline Jane would be childish, not caring enough, or maybe caring so, so much, about the locket and chain around her neck. Anne would watch her with such a fury in her eyes, and the blonde would internally laugh.

She regrets it. Jane hadn’t seen it coming. The dreadful ending.

“But I know you do; I will try to change it.” Anne answers, her voice just above a whisper.

A soft: “Thank you” it’s all Jane can say.

“You’re welcome,  _ darling _ .” A playful smirk passes through her lips.

“Bloody idiot.”

“I know.”

Boleyn gives her a sincere smile.

Maybe sometimes yelling is useful.

(…)

_ It is also true that she was not as sharp or witty as Anne Boleyn. _

(…)

It doesn’t last long. Before she knows it, the show must keep going.

Jane smiles, sings her song, sings about Edward. Edward, her Edward. Her brother too, was named Edward. He died. Her brother too, was Thomas. Thomas who did so much wrong. Thomas who apparently loved Parr. Thomas who got sentenced to death.

Thomas and Edward. Thomas. Edward.

She doesn’t realize how much panic creeps in until she is alone in her room crying. An unexpected feeling of grief for the family she once had, as much grief as hate and resentment towards them. Horrible atrocious acts made just for the sake of it.

The Internet says that her son, her little baby, luckily died young.

They talk about luck, something good. And even as much as she wants to believe that her kid won’t ever be a threat, she knows his father. Henry was atrocious, ruthless. Growing under his influence was probably not the ideal childhood. If only she hadn’t died.

Her skin aches, and she has to ground herself controlling her breathing.

Was it possible that every man in her old life was terrible?

(…)

_ She never seemed to cause drama or do anything without her husband’s permission, and she managed to maintain her carefully crafted image of being virtuous, loyal and obedient. _

(…)

“Jane, can we talk?” Aragon questions, knocking on the door.

The blonde nods, slowly looking up.

“What’s going on?” The divorcee asks, rather bluntly. “You stopped coming out of your room, and when you do, it’s just to fight. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m good. Great even.” She smiles.

“Do you think I’m a fool?”

_ Bloody hell. _

Jane doesn’t want to hold this conversation, knowing that she has all the cards to lose it. But at the same time, she wishes to reach out, to explain what is going on. To say that she doesn’t know how to be angry, how to defy someone, how to speak up. All she knows is shouting, crying and hiding her real emotions.

She must conceal what she feels, to not let it show. The less she thinks, the less she feels, the less danger it represents. Jane can’t be the next one. If what happened to Aragon was an awful experience, where she couldn’t see her daughter or talk to her for the last years of her entire life, and Anne’s death was way worse, what is left for her? Torture worse than death.

“ _ Bonita, _ breathe with me.” Aragon commands, sitting a hand on Jane’s shoulder in an attempt to ground her. “Jane, breath in. Hold. Breath out.”

“Go away, Catherine, please _. _ ” The queen begs.

“No. What’s wrong?”

“I don’t want you here,  _ please _ .”

“I just want to help.” Catherine says, trying to get closer.

“Why don’t you try and help yourself first? I know I’m dumb, but even I can notice what you do, Catherine.” Her voice becomes steady. “Why are you so obsessed with fixing people? Is this because you couldn’t fix Mary from the monster she became?”

The venom in her words acts quickly, Catherine’s face changing in a few moments. First a pained expression, then developing hurt. She stands up from the bed, and Jane rage rises.

“Why can’t you just keep for yourself, Aragon?” She expels the name. “Is that because you don’t know us? Is this a trick? I know you loved him, is this your way to check us as competition? Or just because you want to see which one of us can take the blame for what happened with  _ baby _ Mary?”

Catherine stays silent. Humble and loyal after all.

“I told you I wanted you gone.” Jane finishes.

“And I told you, you need help. You should seek it before it becomes too late.”

(…)

_ Jane’s son Edward was at best a useless boy-king, and at worst a divisive religious extremist who disinherited his sisters. _

(…)

Maybe no other queen truly understands her.

Or maybe she doesn’t understand the others.

How Anne talks about her beheading makes it sound like a celebration, a great day everyone was looking forward. She talks about how people cheered, even if it sounds mostly like an old tale made by people who hated her. Jane doesn’t try to tell the truth. She hides it in her silence, just like she hid from Henry.

She should. She should make it better for Anne, but a part of her can’t do so. Can’t bring herself to tell the truth. To confront the other queen. She can’t break the need to be perfect, the need to be good, and innocent.

Talking to Boleyn would be an admission of guilt she is not ready to commit.

(…)

_ Jane Seymour fulfilled her most important duty as queen, but she was never crowned and died just twelve days after the long and arduous birth. _

(…)

Catherine is distant, which shouldn’t surprise her.

Asking for help sounds like a trap. She can’t trust anyone. Even if she knows how much it would change things, even if she doesn’t feel like the queens would hate her or judge her, deep inside something tells her they will. And she can’t allow that.

She can’t break the idea of being perfect after fighting so much for it in the past.

(…)

_ The fact that she had died producing Henry’s only surviving male heir gave her a mythic near-martyr status in his eyes, and he would do creepy things like having her appear in a family portrait eight years after her death (and not even as a zombie or vampire, much to my dismay). _

(…)

“Why are you here?” Her therapist asks.

Wasn’t being a reincarnated Tudor queen who died after giving birth to the next king of England enough reason to be?

“I think I’m having problems with being impulsive, and out of control, and managing my emotions.”

“Which emotions would this be?”

“I’m not sure.”

“It’s good that you are looking for help, Jane.” The woman says.

She takes the files and starts asking more questions, Jane finds herself being more honest than in a long time.

After the session she feels happier, lighter.

(…)

_ Let’s get down to business and look at just why Jane was in fact not a cute little wifey BUT a calculating master manipulator. _

(…)

It doesn’t last long, and that is what hurts the most.

Feeling good for a moment just to then descend into the pain of unbelievable sadness that invades her. Not knowing how to handle it, making her go slowly mad.

It makes her think of her death.

Everything was good, happy, easy. But then it started going bad, failing. Her own body, organs shutting down, fever, agony. A pain in her chest that barely leaves her breathing. Death coming to her. And sometimes she feels it again.

Short, confused breath. A weight so heavy on her chest. Her thoughts all over the place. Death creeping on her. Her psychologist calls it a panic attack, stress coming to her. And she doesn’t know how to react to the idea that it’s just her brain. Drowning in thoughts, so deep that she can’t see the surface.

(…)

_ That’s two Queens brought back into the folds of power, a feat Jane achieved in just 6 months, thanks to her skill at manipulating Henry without him even realizing. _

(…)

Anna doesn’t come to her, just the contrary. Jane tries to help.

Watching the queen crumbling down, makes her feel smaller. Just the contrary to her stage presence. This Anna is not partying, no joking. She is broken. Not a unidimensional character that they pull each night. Cleves has kept a mask for so long, that is just now breaking.

Jane can’t help but wonder if they all do. But it’s different. Jane had always been allowed to be sad, to cry, to be sensible and weak, while Anna never had that privilege. Each role assigned to them had their good and bad parts.

“We might not be great. I know I’m not. But we are here for you. We are all in this.”

“Do you really mean it?” The fourth queen asks.

She doesn’t doubt it. It’s just the way it worked, everyone had their places, what they tried to fulfil. It was harder on some of them. To keep or to destroy what they were. Create a new self being idyllic, impossible.

“Of course, I do.” Jane smiles.

(…)

_ Jane was not beautiful. She was not outspoken, or alluring, or exotic. _

(…)

An article said he was sick for months. That he died slowly, painfully.

Her son had died when still young. And she never held his hand. She wonders if he was scared. If he thought what death might have felt like. Sometimes it keeps her up at night, her sick son who had to lay in a bed. Who she can’t help.

She wasn’t scared of death, as she never quite understood, fever coming to her, letting her slowly go. Making her confused, as she didn’t understand if she died until she came back.

What was better? To go without knowing or to stay knowing that the ultimate end is near?

Jane used to be catholic, used to devote herself to religion. But since she came back it all feels like a lie, an elaborated truth that kept her from making errors. Still, for his supposed last words, she hopes God had mercy on him.

(…)

_ Nobody wants an unfun queen. _

(…)

“Jane, may I sit with you?”

The older nods, making space on the sofa. Katherine practically jumps to the spot but doesn’t relax until Jane opens her arms for the girl to get into the embrace. They stay like that for a few moments, just enjoying each other’s company.

They had managed to somehow have a good relationship. Maybe because Jane never feels as if Katherine judges. Maybe because Katherine never met her in life. Maybe because they know the least about their past. It somehow brings them closer.

“Is everything alright, sweetheart?” The third queen wonders.

She keeps in mind Aragon’s words, if Katherine feels safe enough, she will open up. Slowly the changes had been more noticeable, especially after starting therapy.

Maybe it’s the need to be a mother, maybe it’s just the way Katherine can charm anyone, with shy smiles and childish glee.

“I feel bad.” Katherine admits. “I… I have tried to ignore things and I just feel guilty about it.”

Jane nods, knowing what the feeling is about. Remorse is an even more common feeling in the queens’ household than it is probably in others.

Maybe they are both broken.

“What about?” She wonders.

Maybe it’s just meant to be.

“They beheaded the woman who helped me.” Katherine admits. “They beheaded her too.”

Maybe it’s because they both feel the blood on their hands.

“But it wasn’t your fault. You can’t make yourself responsible for others’ actions.” Jane confirms.

“I never cried. Since I came back, I never cried for her. I just pushed it to the back of my mind, acted as if it did not happen.” Her eyes water. “She  _ died _ for me. And I am back, and she is not. I still don’t try to bring those memories back.”

“Some emotions need time.” The older one tries to explain. “Grief it’s not lineal, there’s denial, there’s guilt.”

“She didn’t deserve it.”

“You didn’t either. But you can honour her. We have a second chance, something impossible.”

“What are you using your second chance for?” Katherine wonders.

Jane doesn’t have an answer.

(…)

_ Jane Seymour: (shrug) enh. _

(…)

Sometimes talking with fans is easier. They comment about the play with blissful glee, about the shiny costumes and loud music. Some go as far as making copies of her costume, to draw her, to write letters. They still don’t know her fully and they mostly don’t care to find out.

Jane can’t help but wonder if Edward ever felt love like that, blind, from someone who doesn’t know who you are. She can’t help but wonder what her son knew of her, because he never met her. She didn’t get to really meet him either, but she has Anna, who sometimes would drop a funny story of a young king, Katherine who remembers a little boy, and Catherine who talks about how smart he was.

She hopes that he had someone to tell him her story.

(…)

_ In her entire 18 months as queen, Jane Seymour failed to say one single thing that anybody thought was worth preserving for the future. _

(…)

“Catherine, can we talk?” Jane asks.

The first queen nods sternly, sitting in front of her. Even though their relationship had been less tense since she started therapy a while ago, things were still not quite resolved within them.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Catherine starts. “I shouldn’t have pushed, specifically not when I told you not to push Katherine.”

“No, it’s alright.” The blonde smiles. “Katherine shouldn’t be pressured, that’s true. But we are different. I didn’t understand what you were trying to do but now I do. And I’m sorry. I have been realizing things slowly and it’s just a matter of time until I will feel better again.”

“Penny for your thoughts?” The first queen asks.

“It’s the idea of being perfect. To fill in my own shoes. To comply, and obey and serve. You knew me before, and you know me now, but I just feel so much responsibility to be who people think I am. I talk about how I stayed, firm by his side, but in reality, I didn’t. I was scared. I am scared. And it’s such a weird feeling, because it drives me to do the exact opposite thing of what I try to do. My death was just something that happened, but I can’t help and think that I was lucky to have died. Who knows what could’ve been of me otherwise?”

“You don’t have to be perfect.”

“But I do.” Jane replies. “It’s just my place, and I’m a character. I just have to learn where and when I should be myself.”

“Are you sure? No one is expecting anything.”

“They are. And it’s okay. They want it, the love story, the tragic ending. I wish it was like that, but it was not. But I’m going to be fine, because I’m pretty tough. And it doesn’t come from screaming, being the loudest or the most anything. It comes from me, and I don’t have to prove it to anyone else.”

(…)

_ Or, god forbid, are you a fan of the insufferable Jane Fucking Seymour? _

(…)

“I might miss some foods from the past, but I love this.” Anne said happily, devouring some chocolate lentils.

“Stop it! I want some too.” Her almost namesake replied, trying to take some.

“Anna, don’t worry about chocolate and help me pick a movie.” Parr insists. “I saw that this one was good, this account said that they used a new kind of animation to do it. Created a new program and all.”

Jane smiles, laughing lightly at Catherine who can’t keep facts for herself. Each time it becomes better, less superior talking and more nerdy, passionate about useless knowledge.

“Whatever you choose, please let it be short, I’m so tired tonight.” Aragon asks.

“That one is ninety minutes long.” Katherine offers.

The third queen sits, gossiping about the plot

(…)

_ So, don’t overlook Jane. Sure she’s quiet, but remember it’s the quiet ones you have to watch. _

(…)

Second chances were overrated, that much could be said for Jane Seymour.

Sometimes, people don’t change, themselves or their minds. In her two lives, she dealt with it all. With trying and not, with fighting and keeping quiet, with being looked up to and with being irrationally disliked. Society, as a whole, would never be pleased. Setting standards too high, as much as those vary from time to time, from one century to the other, there was always going to be something wrong.

But it didn’t mean she had to just follow it.

Second chances were overrated, wasting hers into demonstrating things to anyone except herself. The general opinion might not change, but Jane does. She learns, grows. She cries, gets sick and has horrible days, she fights, speaks out, she loves, she smiles. It’s hard, to live a life she shouldn’t have, but it means that is her opportunity, not to be revolutionary, not to be a queen nor a mother.

Jane learns to be herself, to explore, to know her limits. And it never ends.

Second chances were overrated, but it doesn’t mean that Jane was going to try and make the best out of hers. Maybe it is boring, or naïve to not try to take an impossible opportunity, but she doesn’t need it. To be true to herself is more than just enough.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to say... I hate this lol but well, it is what it is (I guess) 
> 
> Some fun facts about this one shots:  
> -Each one is told from a queen perspective, that is why some things are not said in their one shots but in others.  
> -The commentary is always things I took from internet, but depending the queen the comments change (like Jane's go from her being super lovely to people who hate her)  
> -Anne is talking about eating chocolate, which as you read in the past fanfic is a something since she deals with eating disorders.
> 
> Thank you for reading!


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